When a drunken night out leads to Rose Delacour meeting the mysterious American Mafia Boss, Clecentine Huxley, she can't help but give in to her beauty and charms.
Young and carefree Rose Delacour didn't expect her night out at the bar to result in...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Softness.
That was the first thing I felt. I felt myself engulfed by thick softness. I wonder what it is.
Flashes of memory from last night came into my mind. The bar, drinks, the beautiful woman, Clecentine, the conversation with her, how sexy she looked and then at last darkness.
Shifting around in whatever was around me I tried to pry my eyes open, but they didn't seem to want to open.
I felt too lightheaded, tired and drowsy.
A sudden dangerous thought came to my mind. Where was I? I couldn't have walked back home.
Oh lord.
My eyes finally opened, albeit with some heaviness and when I became more aware of my surroundings I looked at my body. There was a soft, thick, white quilt I had tangled my legs in.
The curtains of the window were half drawn and everything around me screamed rich, expensive, luxurious.
Considering my broke financial status I could make out even in my tipsy state that this was not my room.
When I finally lifted my body I saw the door of the bathroom open. Shit. Was it Clecentine? One part of me hoped it was, another hoped it wasn't.
Trailing my eyes over my body I felt relieved to see that I was still in the floral dress I wore yesterday.
Trying to untangle my limbs from the sheets I fell down in a pathetic attempt. The thud created by my falling on the polished floor created a sound loud enough for whoever was in there to be alerted and come out.
Out from the bathroom came Clecentine, dressed in a classy creamish-white suit with matching stilettos.
Damn hot.
I could take in every feature of her now that I wasn't too drunk out of my senses. Sexy tan, tempting pink lips, light brown hair tied into a ponytail, amber eyes assessing me with something in her eyes that pulled me towards her.
Without speaking a word she sat on the couch nearby, resting one elbow on her knee while the other rested on the arm of the couch, face resting on her palm.
''I am at your home, aren't I?'' It was a stupid way to start a conversation, but I had no other topic to put forward.
She nodded in response. Not much of a talker, I guess.
''Well, then I guess,'' I trailed off, feeling awkward about me being the only one talking while she looked at me with a neutral face.
''Would you like to have breakfast? You could join me.'' Came her deep voice, rolling smoothly off her tongue.
I bit my lip and nodded, ''Yes, sure. Thank you.''
She gave a small nod before pushing herself off the couch, ''Freshen up and take a warm shower. There is a spare toothbrush in the cabinet. Your clothes will be on the bed. I need to deal with something. Then we can have breakfast.''
